


Keep On (Haunting Me)

by Missmadhatter96



Series: Bleach Phone Fic Collection [13]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternative Universe-Modern Setting, Angst, Demons, Explicit Language, Haunting, I think?, Ichigo doesn’t believe in ghosts, M/M, Made Up History, Masturbation, Shinigami, ghost - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:07:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22684471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missmadhatter96/pseuds/Missmadhatter96
Summary: Ichigo can’t say he believed in ghosts. A chance encounter leaves him scared but happy not to be alone.Ichishi.
Relationships: Hollow Ichigo/Kurosaki Ichigo
Series: Bleach Phone Fic Collection [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1513223
Kudos: 46





	Keep On (Haunting Me)

**Author's Note:**

> Heya peeps! I’ve been going through my notes and seen this was almost finished so I worked on it a bit. Hope you all like :)
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Forgot! The first scene is ichigo doing the do so can skip if want.

**Haunting me.**

* * *

  
Ichigo groaned, hand tightened lightly around his cock as he slid his hand up and down at a tortuously slow pace, stopping at the silt to grab more precome then back down again. It only took a couple more strokes with the added slickness for him to reach the edge and fall into orgasm. He breathed heavily before grabbing some tissues to clean his chest and hand.

Bringing the cover up to his chest, Ichigo felt relaxed for once. Flipping the light switch by the bed, he checked his alarm and rolled on his side, sleeps fingers dancing across his mind, lulling him to sleep.

-

Banging in the kitchen of his flat startled Ichigo from his slumber. Glancing at the clock on his night stand read 3:29 am. Odd. For once not stressed when getting out of bed, Ichigo made his way from his bedroom. Nothing out of place but the light above the tiny kitchen table was swinging like something bumped it. Creepy. Three am and the lights swinging and the tap was turned on...Ichigo shook his head at the cliché horror scene playing out in his apartment.

A laugh by Ichigo’s ear however made him yelp and jump back. No way was his home haunted. Nope. He refused to believe it.

“Okay, Ichigo, there’s an explanation for this. Yeah. You simply forgot to turn the water off and the person up above must of dropped something heavy to rattle the ceiling.” Ichigo spoke to himself. Tap off and light grabbed to stop its swinging, Ichigo went back to bed and snuggled down into his plush comforter. Oblivious to the white mass slowly fading in the corner.

-

Coffee made into a to-go cup and laptop bag in hand, Ichigo locked the deadbolt and headed out to class. Almost bumping into his neighbor in his rush. Apologizing over his shoulder he kept going on his way.

“Asshole.” His neighbor, Ishida muttered under his breath watching Ichigo’s back heading down the stairs. He shivered, feeling a slight chill out of no where in the usually warm hall. He turned looking left and right but didn’t find anything. Strange.

-

“Kurosaki! Mind telling the class why you are almost 20 minutes late this morning?”

Ichigo gulped, sweat dropping before just shaking his head no.

“Kurosaki is probably late for the same reason I am. A wreck was blocking the tracks of the morning train we usually take to campus.” Ishida pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose before taking his seat beside Ichigo’s.

The professor huffed and continued on with the lecture.

Ichigo didn’t know why a college professor cared if he showed or not. Hell, half the class was always ditching or coming in late themselves, trying for that extra sleep everyone is pretty sure eludes college students.

His appearance was probably the issue like most things. Bright orange hair always layered with spikes, lip piercing on the left lower lip and a nose ring on his right nostril. Ears sporting a couple rings in black and red too. Yeah, he was labeled the city punk anywhere he went.

-

By the time the class ended and Ichigo managed to not face plant in his notes, Ichigo was exhausted. Not the ‘only couple hours of sleep’ exhaustion, but the ‘I haven’t slept at all’ for days type. Maybe trying to become a medical doctor was a bad choice. Sleep sounded so good right now.

He idly wondered if his favorite pizza place was open on a Monday, never having the craving on a weekday. He shrugged to no one and made his way to the pizza diner.

No one saw the white mist following behind him.

-

A four cheese melt with the works and a bottle of Pepsi later, Ichigo was happily stuffed and even more tired than before now that he had ate.

He was just getting out the next classes workbook when loud banging could be heard from the bathroom.

Jumping from the sudden noise, Ichigo cursed while picking up the book he dropped. Two nights in a row?

He checked his phone for the time, 1:10 AM, two hours earlier than last night.

Getting up from the worn sofa, Ichigo cautiously makes his way to the bathroom. Flicking on the lights show nothing inside. Curtains closed for the shower on his right, sinks not on, medicine cabinet above the sink is closed. Hn, Ichigo glanced in the mirror, noticing the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes. Great. He feels so old sometimes, dark circles from lack of sleep, stubble growing on his chin. Hell, he found a white hair the other day while fixing it for school.

Crazed laughter rung out in the bathroom, chills run down Ichigo’s spine, he bolted for the door in panic; not seeing the yellow eyes peering out from the shower curtain...

Ichigo caught his breath in the hall, leaning against the wall opposite of the bathroom door. Chills still running down his spine from the clearness of it, it sounded like the one he heard last night!

Head hanging to his chest he scolded himself, “Get it together man! Ghosts aren’t real. Nope. It was the person upstairs. Yes, they were always a bit loud at night. Pull yourself together, Ichigo.”

“Yeah, Ichigo~”

Ichigo did not scream like a little girl. No one can prove it.

Huddled under his covers feeling foolish for running and hiding like a scared little kid but he didn’t care. There isn’t any ghosts here and he’s sticking to it.

-

3:29 AM.

Ichigo bolted upright in bed, panting for breath, clammy and sweaty with an awful taste in his mouth. The nightmare felt so real but he couldn’t remember what it was about other than just seeing white.

Scrubbing his hand over his face, Ichigo decided to get up to grab a glass of water. Faint sounds of water running made Ichigo pause. The clock said 3:32...

-

They say 3 am was the devils hour, or, the witching hour; in which the veil between worlds is at its thinnest. Spirits cross over to help guide their loved ones. Or spirits with ill intentions to haunt those they find an interest in.

-

Ichigo slowly made his way into the kitchen. The room was pitch black other than the green microwave clock showing 3:43. The tap was still running.

His hand hovered over the light switch, frozen in place. Ichigo couldn’t move, like something is trying to keep him from turning the lights on.

“Anyone there?”

No answer.

Ichigo yelped as pain laced down his back, the burning sensation it left was intense and nothing he’d felt before.

Bolting from the room, he felt warm liquid running down his back. Not hearing the hysterical laugh behind him.

Ichigo flipped on the lights in the bath, turning and lifting his night shirt he saw four claw like marks from his neck to the small of his back. The middle two so bad the skin broke causing tear drops of blood to well up and fall.

A whimper escapes his throat, dread settling in the pit of his stomach.

This wasn’t happening.

Couldn’t be happening.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, needed to flee, leave before whatever it was wouldn’t hurt him further.

As if reading his thoughts, the bathroom door slams shut with a bang as the lights start flickering above the sink.

“No! Why are you doing this?!” Ichigo shouts, turning the knob while pounding his fist over and over on the door.

Not so sane chuckles filter in the room behind Ichigo, stilling his movements. “Why you ask? Cause it’s fun!” The voice was distorted, like two or more trying to talk at once.

Not trusting his bravery in turning to stare down the creature, Ichigo keeps facing the door; ice cold air hitting him in the back along with the feeling of fingers trailing down the marks left there.

After finding his voice, Ichigo asks, “What do you want? Why are you here?”

The creature stills its movements, confusion clouding it’s face but Ichigo didn’t know and wouldn’t unless he turned.

“I don’t know..” They whisper in a broken voice then vanish.

Ichigo lets out a harsh breath, the cold and burning on his back leaving with the- whatever the hell it was. He was glad for a moment, regaining feeling in his limbs from the cold numbness of fear.

The knob turned this time, allowing Ichigo to finally leave the tight space. He didn’t want to believe his apartment was haunted. He never really believed in ghosts growing up, but after that, Ichigo was starting to think that maybe there was something like ghosts.

-

Today was a no class day so Ichigo decided to search about this apartment building. Praying that he didn’t find anything.

Until he found a local news article in the year 1718, a man found dead in what is thought to be a satanic ritual brought on by the local cult during the time period.

The building in which the event occurred was just a one story then, but in the same location as this apartment building. 

In 1809 a man named Urahara Kisuke, a foreigner from Japan, bought the building and through the years built around the shack to form what is now The B P building.

Reading that name again made Ichigo pause. Urahara Kisuke? The guy he rented from now has the same name! He looked for a picture and jumped in his seat.

The man in the black and white photo was the same asshole. Oh when Ichigo saw him next!

Wait. If he’s still alive, what is he?

“A Shinigami.” Whispered in his ear.

“Oh my god! Don’t do that!” Wonderful, now he was being bugged by the same ghost from last night... but their voice sounded normal and light. Like it wasn’t there to harm him.

Ichigo spun in his chair not seeing anyone.

“Where are you?”

“Everywhere...”

Ichigo frowned. “Why can’t I see you? Do you not have enough strength to show yourself?”

That earned him a chuckle. “I am very strong.”

That’s never good. He remembered reading somewhere that continued communication with a spirit would allow it to attach itself to you and use your energy. Maybe he shouldn’t keep talking to it.

“What’s your name?”

“Don’t remember.”

Ichigo felt a burning need to see them, to know that he wasn’t crazy and talking to thin air.

“May I see you?” No reply.

Couple minutes later mist started to gather in the kitchens corner to his left.

His chair scraped against the hardwood floors as he jumped to his feet, feeling the room drop in temperature.

The mist swirled for a bit, slowly gaining form from its feet to its head. The being wore all white and was pale from head to toe, waist length white hair shone like the moon on a clear night. And when they opened their eyes it took Ichigo’s breath away. Golden yellow with black scleras.

“Beautiful.” Ichigo whispered under his breath but the being heard him anyway. They moved with fluidity, waltzing towards where Ichigo stood, stopping a couple feet in front of him.

They gestured at themselves, “This one may be beautiful...but, you wouldn’t say the same for my true form.” There was sadness woven through their voice.

“True form? You don’t always look like this?”

They shook their head.

“What was with last night? You scratched me, why?”

Confusion wrinkled their brows, not having a clue what Ichigo was talking about. The being floated back to the corner. “I wasn’t-“

“Don’t leave! Please...” Desperation colored Ichigo’s voice, he just didn’t want to be alone.

They didn’t move for a while, just staring at each other, waiting for someone to move.

Why had Ichigo asked them to stay?

“Okay.” Such a simple thing. Just a word, but it made Ichigo genuinely smile for the first time in what seems like forever.

-

Weeks gone by and the being-ghost-let Ichigo pick him a name, they had said gender didn’t matter for them but they appeared more male than others so Ichigo thought long and hard.

He’s not a very creative man, so when he suggested Shiro, the other just looked at them. Yes it was because he was pale. But Ichigo loved it and the being liked seeing Ichigo smile so he said sure.

Everyday, weeks turning into months then months to a year and Shiro stayed with him wherever he went. Shiro said no one could see him so all Ichigo had to worry about was wether or not they heard him talking to thin air.

Shiro’s company was great and made Ichigo calm when in class. Well, just anywhere they went really. No near by gangs messed with him anymore and for once since he had moved here, that girl down a level stopped trying to get in his pants.

Life was nice. Until they made to visit his renter, Urahara. Shiro froze in the doorway and growled before disappearing into mist. Ichigo knew he was nearby though. He couldn’t explain it but it was like a sensation at the back of his mind, letting him know Shiro was there and no one would hurt him.

“Mr. Kurosaki! What a splendid surprise! I was just saying to Tessai-san that we should invite you two for dinner.”

Ichigo raised a eyebrow at that. Two? He was alone that they could see. Unless...Shiro said something about a Shinigami when they first started talking.

“If you mean I’m dating someone I’m not-“

Urahara waved his hand in a flippant manner, cutting off his sentence. “No,” Urahara was suddenly by his side and whispered in his ear. “I’m talking about that demon attached to your soul.” He moved away, opening a paper fan to hide his power face. “He’s quite a strong one too. Vasto Lorde I believe. Able to take different shapes to ease the person they show an interest in. I must say, it has worked well on you.”

Ichigo couldn’t tell if the shiver that ran through him was from the cold autumn day or the words jumbling in his head.

Shiro a demon? He said he was a ghost, spirit with power but not to harm.

“You’re laying! He’s-“ Ichigo’s anger was stifling, making his words stick in his throat. Tar stuck in his lungs, impossible to breathe.

“Ichigo!”

Ichigo turned to Shiro’s muffled voice, he was trapped in a glass like box. Anger clouded his vision, grabbing Urahara’s robes and snarling in his face. “Release him. Now!”

“‘Fraid not, Mr. Kurosaki. You seem to already know about this building and the history it holds but not my place in it. I guard the tear between worlds when they appear and this building sits on a mighty big one.” Ichigos face drained of color, unclenching his fists to step back. Urahara continued, “Were you, hmm, say pleasuring yourself a year ago tomorrow?”

Ichigo’s face gained color again but in the form of a bright red blush, covering his ears as well as his cheeks. “N-no! Maybe? I don’t know!? Are you spying on your tenets?!”

“My, my. I’d never do that. Only such horrid creatures live off that. No, I am one who just keeps the peace between planes.”

“Then, what does he do?” Ichigo points to Shiro, who looks terrified and angry at the same time.

“He is war.”

Glass breaking made Ichigo turn away, shielding his face from glass shards flying at the pair.

**“Get away from him!”**

Shiro’s voice was that eerie distortion again. Like two voices fighting who talks and who listens. A black bone like mask formed over his pale face, horns pointing forward and down.

Shiro stood motionless, growls and snarls leaving him every now and then. Shadows building from the ground, surrounding his feet to his knees. Hands flexing into sharp claws at his sides.

Urahara unsheathed his hidden blade in the cane he always carries, whispering to the blade it’s release phase, “Okiro, Benihime!”

Golden yellow eyes blazed behind his mask, sharp teeth parting to release a bone chilling shriek.

Ichigo lunges as Urahara moved to attack, Shiro never moving an inch.

“No!” Ichigo moved as fast as he could, standing in between them. Wincing and holding his arms out, waiting for the blow that never came.

Slowly opening his eyes, Ichigo saw a pale arm in his peripheral, along with the ends of horns, pale hand with wicked claws holding a shaking blade from striking Ichigo. Black shadows dancing around Shiro’s clawed fingers.

“Shiro?” Ichigo whispered.

“That’s not Shiro, Ichigo. He never told you his real name did he?” Shiro growled low and deep, shoving the blade back and wrapping the other hand around Ichigo’s waist protectively, pulling them back further into shadows that moved and writhed.

“He couldn’t remember it.” Ichigo believed him too, not once doubting his best friend. That’s what Shiro had become. Ichigo’s friend who never left and always understood what he was going through and how to help.

“Lies. They are kings and queens of lies. His real name is-“

**“Don’t.”**

“Shiro. His name is Shiro. I’ve named him so that means he belongs to me right? I’ve read it in books, legends saying that a human who names a creature of the night now belongs to them. So, Shiro is mine and you will not harm him.” Ichigo laid both his hands on Shiro’s arm, clutching him closer, leaning back into the cold chest.

Urahara sighed in frustration, humans were so stupid, yet so amazingly wonderful at the same time. “Yes, I believe he does. Our apologies.” He half bowed, resheathing his sword.

Ichigo nodded and wiggled to turn around but Shiro’s grip tightened, “Shiro?” Ichigo worried for him, someone knew his name of course he’d be worried or on edge.

Shiro’s voice returned to normal, mask dissipating into smoke. “Ichi, he knows my name.”

Urahara raised a hand slowly in a surrender pose, “Actually, Kurosaki-san knows too. He wears it everyday.” He touched his own collarbone, right where a necklace would lay.

Ichigo glanced down, he never thought about it. His mother gave him the necklace when he was nine, telling him this was his guardian angel and should never take it off. A diamond like shape of craved wood, a black skull laying in a bed of swirls. The charm no bigger than an American half dollar, on the back was a name. Craved with precision of a well skilled hand.

“Zangetsu.”

-

Ichigo sucked in a lung full of air and sat upright. Glass littered the floor, cracks surrounding him. Some had darkness bleeding from them, like it was searching for something.

“Kurosaki-san!” Urahara coughed, trying to find his footing on all the wreckage of fallen walls and bookshelves.

“Here.” Was all Ichigo thought of. His mind felt blank but also like it was reeling from all the events taking place one right after the other and just couldn’t catch up.

“You have to go to him. He’ll bring Hell to earth if he continues.” Urahara pulled him to his feet despite the weak cry of no. He felt the room spin once his feet were under him. “He’s using up your soul like kerosene. You have to stop him or you’ll end up a hollow.”

Ichigo felt himself nod then somehow got to his apartment door. He felt it even worse here. Like pressure on his shoulders, the air smelt like burnt ozone.

What was a hollow anyway?

That thought fled his mind once he pushed open the door to see Shiro, long white hair wiping around him by an unseen force. He hovered a foot above the floors, whispers leaving his pale blue lips.

“Shiro! You gotta stop please!” Ichigo broke into a cough, falling to a knee gripping his chest. “You’re hurting me!”

Still he continued. Ichigo grit his teeth and sucked in as much air as he could and yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Zangetsu!”

Shiro hissed then dropped to solid ground, turning his piercing gaze to Ichigo.

Ichigo never backed down when Shiro made his way closer, still holding his gaze and tilting his head back once the other was hovering over him.

No mask was good, right? He’d only had to face it once before tonight. Shiro screamed for him to hide with salt in a line behind the closed door. He hadn’t slept the night after and barely ate. The screaming was horrifying and painful to listen when he couldn’t help relieve the pain he knew Shiro was in.

“Ichigo, please send me back. I don’t want to hurt you. Please, send me back.” Shiro’s tone warbled, like he was trying to hold back his power and tears. Ichigo knew if he were to hold the other it would be over. But, he still couldn’t move and hardly got any air in his lungs.

“N-no! I-I’m not letting you leave! Y-you promised!” Coughing this time into his hand left a warm splash on his palm, not much time left. “Y-you promised. My Shiro. Only mine.”

Shiro fell to his knees, sobs wracking his body as he clutched Ichigo’s shirt, almost completely sitting in Ichigo’s lap.

Ichigo raised his arms around Shiro. His Shiro. Only his. Something snapped back into place causing Ichigo to scream in agony, pulling Shiro closer.

The pain was almost unbearable. Not a physical pain, no, it felt soul deep. Black creeping into his vision, Ichigo slumped over Shiro. Blinding white light pulling him under.

-

Ichigo groaned awake, eyes fluttering from the brightness of his open windows. A comforting warmth spread on his side. “Who..?” Ichigo rubbed his eye of sleep, white filled his vision as Shiro lifted his head, gold and black eyes locked on to his.

“Y-you stayed.”

“‘Course I did, I’m yours aren’t I?”

“And you’re warm? What..?” Ichigo always remembered the other being so cold.

Shiro smirked. “Some dumbass decided to keep me here as theirs so I’m human. Er, human-ish. Still got powers.”

“So like a Shinigami?” Ichigo played with silken white locks idly, a content smile on his pink lips.

Shiro laid his head back on Ichigo’s chest with a sigh. “Sorta.”

“But you can stay right?”

Shiro rose from his resting spot, pulling himself up slightly to press his pale lips to plush pink. Ichigo’s hold on his hair tightened briefly before running his hand through Shiro’s hair again once the kiss broke. “Forever.” Shiro promised.

And he never breaks a promise.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
